


Clap Your Hands If You Believe

by cocobutterbella



Series: True Blood/Supernatural [2]
Category: Supernatural, True Blood
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-03 20:09:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocobutterbella/pseuds/cocobutterbella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to The Devil You Know. After Sam says goodbye to Sookie, she goes to Faery for a year while Sam's soul is trapped in the cage with Lucifer. In the mean time Soulless!Sam, Eric and Dean try to look for her and the Alpha Vamp, who Crowley hopes will lead him to Purgatory. This is a mash-up of seasons 6 of Supernatural and seasons 4 and 5 of True Blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Now this is a sequel to The Devil You Know. You might have to read that in order to understand this one, but it follows the general story line of season 5/6 of Supernatural and season 3/4/5 of True Blood. I use the term general loosely. I'll probably be all over the place at some point. At any rate, this is my second fic and I'm sort of excited about this one. The chapter opens after Sam tells Dean that he's willing to take one for the team and throw himself into the cage with Lucifer. This also happens to be the same night that Eric tells Sookie the truth about Bill Compton. Well enough chit-chat. I seriously hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think. Review please!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I tend to use lines right from the shows. Both True Blood and Supernatural belong to their respective networks and creators. I own nothing. Therefore I am nothing.

Sam barreled down the interstate in one of Bobby's junk cars. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to make the twelve-hour journey to Bon Temps. Maybe it was the last wish of a dying man? He didn't know what to expect when he would arrive on her doorstep. He hadn't seen or spoken to Sookie in months. The last time he saw her, he was pulling out of her yard. She didn't want him to leave, but he had to. He had to finish what he started. It had been months since he had broken the final seal and inadvertently started the apocalypse. Now he was going to end it. He was going to throw himself into the pit with Lucifer and endure whatever punishment he had to suffer for the rest of eternity. He deserved it.

After telling Dean his suicidal plan he had the sudden urge to drop everything and drive. Sam didn't expect Dean to understand let alone agree with his idea to say yes. He didn't bother explaining the overwhelming desire to see the blonde waitress. A thought nearly stopped him in his tracks, stabbing him in the heart.  _What if she was with Bill? Or Eric?_ He thought about making a U-turn and heading back to Bobby's. It was the end of the world. He couldn't be this selfish. He couldn't expect her to welcome him with open arms.  _What_ do _I expect?_ It didn't matter. This was his last night on Earth and his last chance to tell her how he really felt about her. Tomorrow night he would say yes to Lucifer. After that, he prayed that he would have the strength to throw himself and the archangel into the cage. The thought made him accelerate faster. He had to see her again.

He arrived on her porch after dark. It was still covered in filth, but he could tell that she had made some effort to tidy up in the maenad's wake. He paused for a moment, unsure of whether he should knock. He thought better of it, and turned around stepping off of the porch, cursing himself yet again for being so awkward with women.

"Eric I told you to get the hell—" her voice caused him to stop in his tracks. She was angry.  _Maybe this wasn't the best time,_ he thought. "Sam," she gasped. He turned around and was taken aback by what he saw. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her lovely blonde tresses were pushed out of her face with a little headband. She was wearing a blue sundress with yellow flowers. The contrast of the pale colors against her tanned skin almost lured a gasp from his throat. Yes, she was even more exquisite than he remembered. His eyes returned to her face, and he realized she had been crying.

Before he could open his mouth to speak she ran to him, crashing her body into his. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and buried her small face into his chest. Sam wrapped his long arms around the telepath, caressing her hair gently. He inhaled the scent of her perfume. As always it carried several floral notes that reminded him of an early spring morning at Stanford. The campus was always adorned with flowers. The sights and the smells always calmed him on his walks to class, allowing him to forget that there were dark and evil things that lurked in the shadows, even only for a second or two. It astounded him how this woman could awaken memories he didn't know he had.

She began to cry, sobbing into his flannel shirt. He had never seen her cry before. Not at the crime scene when they first met, not after they found her grandmother murdered on the kitchen floor, not after they had been trapped in the basement in Dallas, not like this. He pulled her closer into his embrace, wanting to close any space that may have existed between the two of them.

After a while she pulled away to look up at him. "What are you doing here?" she gasped between sniffles. Sam cleared his throat, before backing away. He hadn't seen the girl in months and already he couldn't keep his hands off of her. He tried to think of a lie. He looked around her yard, remembering that this was where it happened. This was where he freed Lucifer from the cage.  _What the hell possessed me to come back here?_ His eyes rested on the little blonde waitress.

She was still looking at him, perhaps wondering why in the world he was thinking in circles."You don't have to answer if you don't want to," she sighed. "I'm just glad you're here." She took his hand and led him up the porch and inside her house. It was still in bad shape, but he could tell Sookie had worked hard to make it look presentable. "I'll get you some iced tea," she insisted.

Even now when she had probably spent half the night crying, she was playing hostess.  _Why had she been crying?_  Sam wondered if he had given anything away about Lucifer or Michael or the end of the world. He quickly banished the thought and marveled at her as he leaned against her fridge watching her stand on her tiptoes to grab a glass from the cupboard. She went to the refrigerator, and fished out a pitcher of tea, unaware that he was watching her the entire time. She poured the tea into the glass, finally looking up at him. "What?" she sniffled, as she continued to pour. Sam shook his head nervously and tried to look away. "Cheese and rice!" she swore as the tea overflowed out of the glass, spilling onto the kitchen floor.

Sam moved from his spot and stooped down to help her clean it up. Their hands grazed each other's causing him to spring to his feet nervously. "Where do you keep the paper towels?" he asked trying to look everywhere but at her. Sookie nodded at the counter by the kitchen sink.  _Why the hell are you here,_ he thought to himself. He hated how awkward he was around her, especially after all this time. He grabbed a few paper towels and stooped down to clean the mess.

"I got it," she insisted politely. "You just go take a load off and drink your tea," she gave him a modest smile, exposing that absolutely adorable gap. Sam did as he was told, and headed for the living room. He sat down on the sofa and tried to make himself comfortable… or at least to make himself look comfortable.

Shortly after he got settled, Sookie joined him on the couch. He shifted in his seat to face her. He wasn't quite ready to talk about his own problems, so he took a gulp of sweet tea and resolved to ask her about hers. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he started, looking down at the floral cushions on the sofa. "But—"

"Bill lied to me," she answered his question before he even asked it. Her voice trembled. "I trusted him with every part of me. I did everything for him, gave up every part of who I was." Sam's brow furrowed. He didn't quite understand.

"What do you mean?" his voice was saturated with concern. All he wanted was to comfort her. His hand moved to her shoulder, before he realized it.

Somehow the contact steadied her voice. She inhaled before speaking. "The queen sent him to find out what I was. She wanted to use me for my blood."

"Why would she want to use your blood?" Sam asked, rubbing her shoulder to try and comfort her.

"Because apparently it's crack for vampires," she sobbed. "He nearly killed me. Hell he nearly killed me more 'n I'd care to admit. And the whole time I kept tellin' myself that I loved him." A faraway look clouded her eyes, and she was silent for a few seconds. "But it was the blood. It was all a lie." Sam pulled her closer to him, allowing her head to rest on his chest. She had warned him so many times about Ruby, told him that she couldn't be trusted. He had warned her about Bill too, all the while hoping that he was wrong. They had both been manipulated and lied to. Ruby and Bill preyed on their good intentions and drove them to do the unspeakable. Sam realized that in that moment, there was no one in the world who understood him more than Sookie. He still couldn't bring himself to tell her what he had to do, but he felt like she needed to know.

They sat there for a while, in silence. Occasionally she would let out a sniffle or a sigh, to which he would squeeze her shoulder, gently reminding her that he was still there. He wanted to stay there with her in his arms forever, but he couldn't. He had to finish what he started. Before he realized he was even speaking the words had left his lips. "There's something I have to tell you," he whispered into her hair.

Sookie sat up, blinking away tears and looking at him expectantly. Even when she looked an absolute mess, he couldn't deny how beautiful she was. Her hair was a bit messy, her eyes were a little red, and the tip of her nose was a bit pink from all of the sniffling, but she was still the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. "Things are about to get bad." He felt his voice breaking as he spoke, but he decided to keep going anyway. "And if I don't do something then they're going to get a lot worse." He was stumbling over his words, trying to think of the easiest way to explain it. He cursed himself for not speaking to her sooner. He cursed himself for not being strong enough to stay away.

"Sam," she placed a hand on his knee. "Quit tryin' to find a way to say what you have to say and just say it. I'll understand, I will," she assured him.

He took a deep breath and tried to relax. Finally he exhaled, and the words poured out of him. He told her about the angels, vessels, demons, and the big battle royal between Lucifer and Michael that would send the world hurtling into destruction. He wanted to stop there and let that be the end of it, but he couldn't. "I'm Lucifer's vessel." He looked at her, not sure what he was expecting her to say or think.

"And I'm a fairy," she shrugged. "So what? It doesn't matter what you are, it's what you choose to do with the gifts God gave you."

"What if God didn't give them to you," he argued.

Sookie shook her head. "Those aren't the gifts I'm talkin' 'bout. You're brave, and you're smart and there's so much good in you. I used to wonder how someone who's seen so much evil can still get out of bed in the mornin' with a desire to do good. You're willing to give everythin' you have for people you don't even know. Sure there's darkness in you. There's darkness in all of us. But there's a light in you, Sam Winchester. That's somethin' the devil didn't give you, so it isn't somethin' he can take away." Her hands reached up to touch his face and the soothing sensation made him close his eyes for a brief second and relish in the softness of her skin.

"You are so strong. You have so much love in you. You have people who love you. That's why you're gonna beat the devil. I know you will." Sam felt a tear escape down his cheek. In that moment he realized that he loved her. The warmth of the realization soothed him. How could this woman make every ache suddenly disappear? More tears flooded his eyes. He closed them tight, trying to hold them in, but all this did was make them pour faster.

He suddenly felt the feel of her lips on his cheek and somehow the sensation chased away every doubt he had about himself. He opened his eyes, watching her move to kiss his other cheek. Both were small sweet gestures, saturated in love and assurance.

As she pulled away, his lips caught hers, and he hungrily devoured her mouth. She acceded, parting her lips and letting out a quiet moan. The sound made him yearn for more. He plunged his tongue between her lips, savoring her.

Their hands raced to explore each other, his tangled in her hair at one moment, then squeezing the softness of her exposed shoulders, to her ample breasts the next. Their mouths separated long enough for her to gasp for air, then ravenously resumed their assault. Sam's hands continued their journey down her back before settling on her hips. He lifted her off of her seat, closing the space between their bodies. Sookie took the opportunity to wrap her legs around his waist, and the closeness made his libido reel. He stood up with her in his arms; her hands clasped the back of his neck, gently pulling at his hair.

He pulled away, and she let out a quiet whimper. He stopped for a moment to look into her eyes. The old familiar fear crept into his mind. Every woman he had ever shared himself with was dead. He feared the same would happen to Sookie. He didn't care if this was his last night on Earth. He couldn't bear to save a world without her in it. "Shhh…," she soothed, despite the fact that he hadn't actually said a word. "I'm not goin' anywhere." She assured him with a kiss so soft and sweet he was sure it should've melted him on the spot.

He carried her up the stairs, relying on his memory to navigate to her bedroom. He kicked open the door, with his mouth still glued to hers, consuming and relishing every taste. When he reached her bed he gently laid her down, sinking onto the bed with her. He was careful not to crush her with his own massive size, putting his weight on his knees and elbows. He went for her throat, kissing, licking and playfully biting her tanned skin.

She unhooked her legs, gasping and purring at the sensation. Her hands went for his waist, and she pulled him down closer to her, grinding her hips into his. His jeans were starting to feel a little too snug. His breath caught as she plunged her hands between his legs, caressing his length through his jeans. He broke away from the kiss, causing another whimper to escape her lips in protest. He stood up to look at her. The hazy lust in her eyes, her tangled yellow mane, her lips pink and swollen begging for more, he took all of her in. She got on her knees and crawled to the edge of the bed, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. She pushed it open, exposing his taut chest, shoulders and abs. Her hands explored his torso, tracing the ripples of his muscles as he shrugged off his shirt. He inhaled sharply when her fingers lightly traced his nipples, followed by her small dexterous tongue.

His manhood ached and throbbed, the sensation almost becoming unbearable. She kissed her way down his chest and abs, stopping briefly to trace his happy line with her tongue. That was it. The jeans were coming off. He lifted her chin with his index finger, bringing her lips to his mouth and kissing her tenderly. Her nimble fingers worked tirelessly to unbutton and unzip the denim that shrouded his ever-growing erection. When she had finally succeeded, he did his best to work out of the jeans without ending the kiss. The two laughed against each other's lips as he danced about, finally working them around his ankles. He stepped out of them and kicked them across the room, never breaking contact with her soft lips.

She pulled away to marvel at his lean, athletic physique. Her eyes went wild with anticipation when they rested on his crotch. It twitched through his boxer briefs. The sight of her getting turned on by his body made him ache to be inside her. He slid out of his underwear and tossed them aside, keeping his eyes locked onto hers. She shifted her weight, and sat back on her heels, admiring his body, starting with his long runner's legs, his firm thighs. She lingered on his cock for a moment; again her scrutiny made it throb. Her eyes continued to travel, up, up, up until they reached his eyes.

She pulled her hair to one side and reached behind her neck, untying her sundress. Her eyes never left his. She got back on her knees, silently asking for assistance. Sam obliged, as he reached for the bottom of the dress, pulling it up over her head and gently tugging it off. She smiled bashfully as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra and tossed it aside. Sam's eyes never left hers.

He leaned down to kiss her, but she leaned back, encouraging him to join her on the bed. He followed, crawling on top of her, until she was flat on her back, her long tresses sprawled out over the comforter. She looked up at him lovingly, pushing his long shaggy mane out of his face. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Sam Winchester," she whispered. No one had ever called him beautiful, not even Jessica. The warmth and sincerity of the words only made him love her all the more. He needed to show her how he felt.

He devoured her mouth tenderly, moving down to her throat. He licked his way down to her left breast, taking her nipple into his mouth while his hand massaged the right one. She arched her back, moaning desperately. He felt her nipples go rigid. He moved to the right, suckling and teasing her hardened bud. His hand traveled down her belly, reaching into her lacey white panties. She was already slick with arousal. He massaged her clit, causing her breath to catch in her throat. He kissed her, hungrily, keeping a steady rhythm. She continued to gasp and writhe underneath him as he showered her with kisses, her lips, her forehead, her neck, and breasts.

He paused briefly, inserting one finger into her gingerly. His eyes remained focused on hers. He could feel her tighten her walls around his long, stout finger. The sensation made his cock throb with anticipation. He pulled out, deciding to insert a second finger. Her hands grabbed at the comforter and she hissed. He gently continued to massage her clit with his thumb, pushing in and out in a slowly and curving his fingers upward to stimulate the right spot. He increased the speed and intensity, admiring the way her body arched, the way her hips rolled in tandem with his fingers as they went in and out.

She was already so close to the edge. Her legs were trembling. Her breathing was becoming heavy and erratic. He kept going, his eyes never leaving her face. He wanted to see her topple over the edge. He could feel her walls tightening and contracting around his fingers. An inarticulate shout escaped her lungs as she ejaculated all over her panties, comforter, and even him. Her body trembled and convulsed in the aftershocks of her orgasm. Sam sat up on his knees, marveling at his handiwork. She was a goddess. She smiled up at him like the cat that got the canary. Sam returned her smile, licking his fingers and savoring the sweet taste of the woman he loved. He leaned over, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She shivered at his touch, still at the mercy of her orgasm.

Sam waited for Sookie to come back to her senses. When he saw some hint of intelligence return to her eyes, he kissed her long and slow. This time her tongue ventured into his mouth, tasting her and him. She broke the kiss abruptly, and looked up at Sam, terrified. "What's wrong?" he asked, almost apologetically.

Sookie hesitated for a moment. Her eyes shifting from side to side, "I don't have any condoms." Sam nearly slapped himself.  _Condoms._ How could he forget condoms? If Dean were here, he would've been shaking his head in disapproval. Of course, he didn't know that visiting Sookie meant sex, but surely he should've come prepared. Of course she wouldn't have any protection.

He suddenly remembered the old condom in his wallet. He reached down beside the foot of the bed and rummaged through his pockets. When he found it, he checked the expiration date. It was good for another year. He tried not to think about what he would be doing a year from now, and returned his attention to Sookie. "I only have the one," he admitted.

She sat up and pulled him on top of her. "Well you better make it count," she whispered, biting her bottom lip. Sam's libido lurched at her salacious gesture. Thankful that his blunder didn't kill the mood, he kissed her again before sitting up onto his knees. He ripped the foil wrapper with his teeth and rolled the condom onto his shaft. When he was done examining it, he looked up at her surprised to see that she had already taken off her panties. He grabbed her by her ankles and pulled her closer. She giggled excitedly. The sound though light, tugged heavily on his heart. This would be the first and last time he would make love to Sookie. This would be the last time he'd feel the curves of her face, the silkiness of her hair, the smoothness of her skin. The thought made him ache.

He placed her feet on the bed on both sides of his hips and lined himself up just right. He leaned over and kissed her, barely grazing her opening. He felt Sookie shiver beneath him. He didn't feel like waiting any longer. He gently slid inside of her with a spine tingling slowness. The feeling of her tight walls enveloping him made him hiss. Sookie whined as she clutched his shoulders, her face twisted in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He waited a moment, allowing her to adjust to his size. Sam knew he was substantially larger than average and wasn't quite sure if he was hurting her. He placed a soothing kiss on her forehead, gently pulling out then pushed in. He felt Sookie's body relax underneath him and a moan escaped her lips.

Sam quickened his pace. She felt like home, like heaven. He closed his eyes and kept a steady rhythm. Trying not to look at her kept an approaching orgasm at bay. He wanted this to last. He concentrated on his breathing, which at this point had become heavy. Sookie's hands fell from his shoulders and clutched the comforter beneath her. She writhed and whimpered, grinding into each and every one of his thrusts. Sam could feel her hands on his face now. His hair was sticking to his forehead, which was now slick with sweat. Sam opened his eyes and cursed himself for not looking at her sooner. Sweat glistened at the nape of her neck and breasts. Her eyes remained fixed on him, as if she had been watching him the entire time. Her face glowed with satisfaction. "Sam," she gasped. He intensified his thrusts. "Oh yes, Sam!" She continued showering him with moans and gasps of encouragement. All the while, he watched her face as she whimpered with each thrust. He lost track of time. His muscles began to burn and ache, but he didn't care. The only thing that mattered in this moment was Sookie.

He could feel her walls contracting around him again, as she arched her body into his. She was close to her second climax. Sam wasn't far behind. He pulled her up and sat back on his haunches, still thrusting into her wildly. Her lips found his in between gasps, and they ravaged each other's mouths passionately. She pulled away just in time, as they toppled over the edge simultaneously giving way to their orgasms. Sam plowed through, not wanting their lovemaking to end. Finally he slowed his pace. He could feel Sookie's body go limp with exhaustion, her head resting on his shoulder.

Sam laid her down, and rearranged his long limbs to lay his head on her belly. They were both physically spent and covered in sweat. Sookie lazily twirled Sam's locks in her fingers. "There's somethin' else you have to tell me, isn't there?" she whispered. Her voice was a little hoarse from all the crying (and shouting).

He mulled over the question, debating whether or not he should tell her that this would be the last time she'd ever see him. He looked up at her. "No," he lied, relishing the last few moments he had with her. She was so warm and soft, he hadn't realized that he had drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Sookie awoke shortly before dawn. The sun was still hiding below the horizon, casting a navy glow in the sky. She rolled over in bed, and to her dismay Sam was gone. Though Sam hadn't said it aloud, she knew that last night was the last time she would see him. He hadn't even said goodbye. The smell of his aftershave and conditioner still lingered on her sheets.

She suddenly felt ridiculous. She responded to Sam like a cat in heat, when he was trying to tell her something important. She couldn't blame it on bad timing. Though Eric had revealed Bill's deceit, she couldn't deny that she wanted Sam. He was sweet and kind and… human. But none of that mattered. He was gone. And she'd never see him again. She got out of bed and went to the bathroom to start a shower. Sookie dressed and stared at herself in the mirror. She had changed so much in the last year of her life. Letting Bill into her life, into her heart, and into her bed was the worse decision she felt she had ever made. Tears welled in her eyes as an overwhelming sadness washed over her. She was utterly alone.

Before she realized it, she was running down the stairs and out the front door towards the graveyard. The morning chill whipped against her cheeks as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. She stopped at Gran's grave, falling to her knees and sobbing. "Gran I am so lost," she choked through tears. "I followed my heart but it led me down a dead end road. I miss you so much. I've never felt so alone. I've spent my whole life feelin' alone." She didn't know what else to say. There were no more words, only pain. The sobs wracked her entire body. She wept for Bill. She wept for Sam. She wept for Gran and her parents. Every pain she had ever felt for anyone in that moment riddled her body.

Suddenly Sookie felt a familiar presence that silenced her crying. "You're not alone." She looked up from Gran's grave. Standing just a few feet away from her was Claudine. She looked out of place among the graves and the Spanish moss, her beauty punctuated with a glow that seemed to radiate through her very being. "Come with us," she extended her hand.

Sookie looked around for a moment, baffled. She had never considered leaving Bon Temps before. This was her home. She may have been part fae, but she was human. Claudine must have sensed her apprehension. "We can take care of you, Sookie. We'll keep you safe. You won't have to hide who or what you are." Sookie stood and took a few short steps towards Claudine. She felt a light arise from within her and was surprised to see that the same was indeed happening to Claudine. She reached for the fairy's hand an in an instant they were both gone.

 


	2. Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So remember in the beginning of season 6 of Supernatural when Sam tells Dean that when he was topside the first thing he did was look for Cas for weeks? Well this is what transpired over the course of those weeks. So basically the timestamp for this would be a few weeks after Sam's resurrected. The timestamp in relation to True Blood, would most accurately be a few weeks after Sookie leaves with Claudine. I know this is a short chapter but there's definitely more to come. Leave me a review!

Sam looked over at the alarm clock that buzzed on the nightstand, signifying that it was now seven am, and that he had stayed up all night for the twenty-second consecutive night. He didn't know why he had even bothered to set the damn thing anymore. He didn't understand why he couldn't sleep and why he didn't feel tired, and somehow he couldn't bring himself to actually care. He got up from the motel desk and walked over to shut it off.

It had been three weeks since he'd awoken in Stull Cemetery in the very place where he'd jumped in the pit to save his brother and the world. He had been searching for weeks for the person or the thing that had rescued him. His first thought was Dean. Perhaps he'd done something, made a deal, tried the Horsemen's rings. But after a trip to Lancaster, Pennsylvania he soon learned that Dean had actually respected his dying wish. He found Lisa and Ben and was leading a normal, apple pie life. He followed his brother for a day or two, to make sure he was safe, and lit out of town to continue his search. His next lead was Cas. Sam had tried praying for hours, even days on end, but he never heard the flutter of wings, never saw the blue eyed, messy haired, holy tax accountant shrouded in a dirty trench coat. He traveled to Sioux Falls, reunited with Bobby, but after a day with the old drunk he realized that the only thing the hunter had to offer on the matter was a hug and a pile of jack squat.

"Maybe it was God," the old hunter proposed that night as he cracked open another beer.

Sam took a swig of his own beer, not bothering to look up from one of Bobby's old books on resurrection. "Yeah, maybe."

Bobby walked over to him and violently slammed the book shut. Sam didn't even jump at the sound. He looked up at the hunter, who was eyeing him suspiciously. "You feelin' okay, Sam?" The old man had asked him this several times, before and after the usual post resurrection ritual.

"For the last time, I feel fine," Sam chimed.

"And you don't remember what happened in the pit at all?"

Sam shook his head innocently. "Not a thing." This still didn't break the old man's suspicions.

He let out a heavy sigh and folded his arms. "And you're sure you don't wanna let Dean know you're back?"

"He's out Bobby. He has what he's always wanted. He's safe and happy. It'd be selfish of me to just waltz back into his life with my mess."

" _Our_ mess," Bobby corrected.

Sam stood up. "Look Bobby, I appreciate everything, really I do. But this is my problem. I can handle it." He patted the old man on the shoulder and started to head for the door.

"You're just gonna take off in the middle of night? Don't you need some rest?"

Sam stopped in his tracks, and wondered why he didn't feel tired. He turned around to answer the hunter's question. "No," he replied, almost to himself. "I'll call you." Sam walked out of the door and onto the porch. He stood there thinking for a moment, about what he wanted to do next. He wasn't tired. He wasn't hungry… not for food at least. "Sookie," the name rolled off his tongue with a pleasant familiarity. With no leads on what saved him and Dean out of the picture, he resolved that it was time to head to Bon Temps to enjoy some quality time with a little blonde waitress.

* * *

He arrived at her house the next morning to find several men in hard hats standing in her yard, looking at blueprints. The house still looked the same as it did the last time he saw it, several weeks ago. There was still mud caked to the walls and if possible it looked even more dilapidated in the daylight. He hopped out of one of Bobby's clunkers from his junkyard and walked over to the group of men.

"Can I help you?" one of them asked, looking up from the blueprints.

"I'm Sam. I'm a friend of Sookie's. Is she here by any chance?"

"Oh son, you haven't heard?" he asked, removing his hard hat.

"Heard about what?"

"She's dead, a vamper killed her," another one of the men chimed in.

"That ain't true, Roy. They ain't found a body."

"'Cause there ain't no body. Vamper probably ate her," Roy retorted. "It's a shame too, she was mighty pretty."

"Vampers don't eat people, ya jackass. They suck the blood outta ya and feed the rest to gators," another one of the men argued.

Sam was getting annoyed. "Did the police say it was murder?"

"The papers is sayin' it was probably a kidnappin', but it's been weeks. I mean what do they say? If they don't find a person in 72 hours, then they're probably gonna find a corpse?"

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I suppose that's what they say." He wondered why he didn't feel anything. There was no shock, nor horror, nor grief, only an overwhelming curiosity and a slight interest in the prospect of a potential job. "So what are you doing out here?" he asked the men.

"Well her brother sold the house. I mean can you blame him? His grandmamma and his lil' sister were both murdered in there. It didn't stay on the market long though."

"Who bought it?"

The guy looked down at the clipboard he was holding. "I… IAK," he read.

"Any idea what they're gonna do with the house?"

"Well we're just here fixin' her up. My best guess is they're probably gonna sell it. Y'know, like one of those house flippin' shows on HGTV."

"Right," Sam replied. "Thanks for your help guys," he turned to walk back to the car.

"We're real sorry 'bout your friend," Roy called after him.

Sam stopped in his tracks. "Thanks but, I think I'm okay," he replied.

It only took Sam a few hours to discover that IAK was a dummy corporation that he tracked back to Eric Northman. He spent the rest of the day reading the missing person's report. It was as if she'd literally vanished into thin air. He hopped on the I-20 to Shreveport, shortly after dark. Fangtasia was relatively empty. Only a few customers lingered around this early in the night. He spotted Pam behind the bar. She was already staring at him. He sauntered over to the vampire casually.

"Well look what the cat dragged in…" she purred. "Where have you been? We were worried sick about you," she mused sarcastically.

He ignored her. "Where's your boss?" he asked gruffly.

She eyed him for a moment. "Look at you," she marveled condescendingly. "Looks like Sasquatch grew a sac while he was down under. He's in his office," she nodded to the door behind her. "And he's been expecting you," she added as he walked away.

Sam didn't bother knocking as he entered the sheriff's office. He looked up from his paperwork as he sat behind his desk. "Sam Winchester… back from the dead, I see."

"What did you do with her, Eric?" he asked coldly.

"That's, funny I was about to ask you the same thing. That night, when she went missing I felt it the moment she disappeared. I searched that house, and the only thing I found was the stench of you. Given your track record with women, Madison… Jessica…" Sam suddenly understood what Eric was doing. He was prodding the bull, attempting to get a rise out of him.  _Why?_ When the vampire realized it hadn't worked he sat back in his seat and looked at the hunter in a way that Sam could best describe as confusion. Nevertheless, he digressed. "You were the last person to see Sookie alive. Now she's gone. You were gone, too… for a few hours, but somehow you're back. Now, why is that?"

"What exactly are you saying?" Sam retorted.

"Did you kill her? Did you use her to help fight the apocalypse or whatever you and your brother were doing for the last year?"

"No," Sam answered plainly. Eric studied him for a minute.

"It's funny, during that year I felt everything, every fear, every bout of anger and angst. And now, the only thing I feel from you is a steady pulse."

"Did you feel it when I fucked Sookie too? Is that what this is about? I got a slice and you didn't?" Sam smirked menacingly.

"Please, I'm hardly jealous."

"Really? Not even a little? I remember the way you looked at her. And buying her house, fixing it up for when she returns, now that's just pathetic." Eric stood and bared his fangs, before Sam could reach for the gun on his hip, Eric had pushed him up against the wall and lifted him off his feet. Sam knew that he should have been afraid, but somehow he didn't feel it. "Did I hit a nerve?" he jeered.

The anger that clouded Eric's eyes dissipated, revealing a congenial expression of wonder. He released Sam, who adjusted his flannel shirt coolly. "You said you went to her house? What else did you find other than…  _my_ stench?"

Eric returned to his seat looking up at Sam, amused that the hunter was ballsy enough to make fun of him. "That Queen Sophie-Anne had been assassinated by the Authority. And Bill Compton became crowned King of Louisiana and Mississippi."

"Sookie told me that Bill lied to her, that you told her the truth about him."

"He was ordered by Sophie-Anne to procure Sookie because of her parentage. He manipulated her into falling in love with him so that she would comply with his wishes."

"She mentioned her blood being 'crack for vampires,'" Sam recalled.

"Fairy blood was a delicacy centuries ago. Vampires nearly pushed the fae to the brink of extinction. Most of us don't even know they exist. Finding a fairy is exceptionally rare. I suppose that's all the reason in the world Sophie-Anne needed to collect her. But Bill fell in love, in his own sick way." He pulled a file from out of his desk. "After you were resurrected I, assumed it had something to do with Sookie. So I looked up everything about anyone remotely connected to you and your brother. That's when I found this." He opened the file. Inside was a picture of a bald man he had never seen before. There was also a death certificate.

"Samuel Campbell?" Sam read aloud. "As in?"

"Your maternal grandfather. He died in the 70s. Right around the time you were looking for Dean, he was looking for both of you. That picture was taken a few weeks ago in Lancaster."

Sam nodded as he leafed through the file. "You'd make a damn good hunter, I'll give you that."

"I'm sheriff for a reason," he smirked. It quickly faded as his tone grew serious. "Help me find her. This, Bill, it all has to be connected."

He looked up from the file and was surprised that Eric was almost pleading with his eyes. "What the hell else do I have to do anyway?" Sam shrugged.

 


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timestamp for this chapter: Okay so it's been a year since Sam came back from the dead and Sookie went missing. This chapter picks up with the season six premiere of Supernatural. I'm uploading these as my beta okays them, so if posting seems a bit erratic, I apologize. As always, I love reading what you guys think, so leave a review!
> 
> Trigger Warning for some slight torture and bondage.

"C'mon sweetheart, I thought the switchblade was your favorite," the vampire crooned into Dean's ear as he dragged the knife gently across his flesh. Dean's body betrayed him as he felt is cock stiffening at the touch. His hands were bound high above his head in chains. Even if they weren't, there was no way he could fight off a thousand year old vampire alone.

"This is a dream," Dean gasped angry that his voice had gone up an octave.

"Doesn't mean you can't enjoy it," Eric mused, lazily tracing the hunter's jaw line with his index finger. He circled around him.

Dean jerked his face away. "I don't swing that way, Brokeback," he retorted. "This is a dream," he repeated. "It's all one horribly, vivid dream. It's just the blood, it's just the blood," he repeated the phrase like it was a mantra, wiling himself to wake up.

Northman laughed so deep and loud that the hunter could feel the echoes reverberating off the walls and down his spine. "My blood didn't do this. It enhances what's already inside of you. You like being tied up. You like being torn a part. You like taking it up the ass," he whispered into his ear.

"Go fuck yourself!" Dean spat.

"Right now, I'd rather fuck you," the vampire grinned as he continued to circle him. Dean heard his footsteps come to halt behind him. He braced himself for the worst. Before Dean could take a deep breath, Eric had tore inside of him, impaling him with his massive, throbbing cock. The pain was white hot, searing Dean from the inside. Eric taunted him between thrusts. "You know what the best part is? Right now, Lucifer is doing the exact same thing to Sam. Who's getting off on it more, Dean?" He leaned over to whisper in Dean's ear. "I bet your darling Sammy loves being a little whore for Satan."

* * *

"Dean! Wake up!" Lisa's voice called him out of his sleep. Dean sat up in bed, thankful she had awoken him. "Shhh, it's alright. It was just a nightmare," she soothed as she rubbed his back and shoulders. Dean looked over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was almost seven o'clock.

He gave Lisa a quick peck on the cheek. "I'll start breakfast." So began Dean's 342nd day without Sam. He had kept his promise to his brother all this time. He found Lisa and Ben and they took him in. They helped him build somewhat of a normal, the life he had promised Sam he would lead.

During the day, Dean worked with a construction company, building townhouses in the suburbs of Lancaster. On Fridays he attended Ben's soccer games. If the weather was nice, they'd grill out for dinner after a victory. Dean's bacon cheeseburgers were slowly becoming Ben's favorite. On Sunday afternoons he'd play golf with his neighbor and a few of the guys from the construction site. All the while his nights were filled with horrible nightmares of being tortured by Eric, or Alastair, or both. Memories of the job would occasionally plague him during the day. All he had to do was call Lisa. She talked him off the ledge so many times and helped him get back on his feet. She anchored him to this new life, but it did little to fill the void in his heart.

Often times he wondered how he could've let his brother throw himself into the pit alone. They should've died the way they had done everything: together. That's what bothered Dean the most. His brother was in the cage with Michael and Lucifer, being sliced and diced and torn a part and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Sam made him promise not to try and get him out, but of course he lied. Of course he did everything in his power to try and get Sam out. He tried looking for the Horseman's rings. He tried calling Cas. He even tried digging. Of course nothing worked. That afternoon, after he'd visited that graveyard in Kansas for the last time, he pulled the Impala into the garage, covered her with a tarp and never looked at her again.

It was Thursday, which meant it was Lisa's turn to pick Ben up from soccer practice. Dean usually spent his Thursday nights hanging out at a local bar with his neighbor, Jim, after work. Often times they'd talk about sports or the weather, or Dean's innate ability with women. A waitress walked over and set two more beers on their table. "And here's the bill. You gentlemen enjoy the rest of your night," she said congenially, winking at Dean and gently squeezing his forearm.

Jim eyed the young tattooed brunette as she walked away. "How do you do that?" he marveled.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, man. I think chicks just dig unavailable guys." He showed Jim his napkin, which had the waitress's name and phone number.

Jim smiled incredulously. "You've been my neighbor for what, a year now? We've been coming to this bar. You've been hit on by at least a dozen waitresses. I've been buying you beer…"

"Don't tell me you want to give me your number," Dean teased before taking a swig of beer.

He laughed. "No. It's just… I know next to nothing about you, Dean. I mean, what did you do before you came to Lancaster?"

Jim had been asking the same questions every Thursday night, and for almost a year Dean had shrugged them off and casually changed the subject. He did have a point though. Dean took another swig of beer as he mulled over which lie to spill first. "I mean there's not much to tell. I traveled around a lot, took jobs that no one else wanted here and there."

"Like what?" he asked expectantly.

"Pest control." The lie rolled out a lot easier than he expected. "You'd be surprised at what lives inside people's walls. It could eat them alive."

"Pest control, huh?" he repeated. Jim seemed satisfied with the answer. "Well, I'm gonna be a divorcee if I don't get back home before eleven." Jim stood and tossed a few bills on the table.

Dean put on a fake smile, thankful to avoid explaining any further. "The old ball and chain wearin' you down, huh? Guess I should be headin' home too. Early start and all that." On the way to his pick up truck, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. He unlocked his door and got inside, pausing briefly to take a look around. No one was there. He shrugged off his suspicions and made his way home.

As he turned onto his street he noticed there were scratches on all of the street lampposts. Something was hunting him. When he pulled into the driveway, he grabbed his pistol from the glove compartment. When he reached the front door he noticed there was sulfur around the doorknob. "No, no, no, no," he repeated. He barged into the house. "Lisa! Ben!" There was no answer. He checked the devil's trap underneath the doormat. It was still in tact. "Ben!" He heard a muffled cry coming from upstairs. "Lisa!" He hurried up the steps and down the hall to Ben's room. When he opened the door his heart sank to his stomach. Lisa was lying on the floor in a pool of blood.

"She got in the way." Dean recognized the voice immediately. It had haunted his dreams for over a year. Eric Northman turned around. That's when Dean noticed Ben. He was standing in front of the vampire, who placed a hand on the boy's head. "Wish I could say I was sorry, but," he paused for a moment to lick the blood from his fingers. "Mmmm..."

"You let him go, you son of a bitch," Dean snarled pointing his weapon at the vampire.

"Absolutely not. You'll need to feed after I turn you. The younger, the better." He smiled down at Ben, who returned it with a delighted grin. The boy had clearly been glamoured.

Dean shook his head. "I-I'm dreaming aren't I? This is a dream," he reasoned.

Northman blinked, and his eyes turned into a familiar pale yellow. "Don't you wish, sweetheart," he grinned. "Look what the Apocalypse shook loose."

Dean's heart began to beat out of his chest. He dropped his gun and fell to his knees. He couldn't breathe, or think. "Th-this isn't r-real," he shouted, gripping at his chest. "You're dead." The room was spinning, and he could feel the floor giving way beneath him. He was losing consciousness. Just as he thought he was about to die, he felt a sharp pain in his neck. Someone stabbed him with something. "Sam?"

* * *

Dean opened his eyes. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, noticing that he wasn't quite sure where he was or why he was still alive. Though his vision was still a bit blurry, he sensed that wherever he was, he wasn't alone. He took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dark, before sitting up. The only light in the room appeared to be coming from a street lamp outside. Nothing about the dark, dingy room seemed familiar, except… "Sam?" He sat up and placed his feet on the floor.

His brother sat across the room in an old rickety chair. A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Hey Dean," he greeted his brother quietly. He laughed to himself as he stood. "I was expecting… I don't know… a hug? Holy water to the face? Something." He looked down at him smiling.

Dean wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation. On one hand it was damned good to see Sam, but on the other… was he dreaming? Was he dead? "Is this heaven? Northman or Yellow Eyes or whoever killed me and—"

"Eric? That's what you saw?" Sam asked. He still seemed to be a little too lighthearted about this entire situation. Dean asked what he meant by "saw." Sam took a step closer and explained that he had been poisoned by witches. "So whatever kinda crazy crap you think you've been seein', it's not real."

Dean took a moment to think. The scratches, the sulfur, the blood… "So then are you real or am I still…?"

Sam smiled in earnest. "I'm real," he assured his brother. Dean looked at him skeptically. "Here let me save you the trouble." He took out a silver knife and sliced into his forearm, affirming that he was no kind of skin walker or shifter. He then added some salt to a jug of holy water and took a big gulp. "See? All me," he grimaced. "That's nasty." He set the jug down on the floor.

Dean finally found his feet. He stood and looked at his brother in awe. "Sammy," he whispered to which he received a small affirmative smile. Before he could stop himself, his legs closed the distance between them. He embraced his brother, and suddenly all the pain and the longing went away. He held onto him, afraid that despite his enormous size, a gust of wind would rush through the abandoned house and carry him away. He was real. He was alive. He tore away from him, still in disbelief. "Wait a minute, m-man. You were gone. I mean that was it. H-how are you-?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, man. Your guess is as good as mine. I'm just… back." Dean didn't like how Sam was seemingly nonchalant about the ordeal, but he chocked it up to his brother having time to adjust.

"Well was it God, or Cas?"

"I don't know. I've been calling Cas but he hasn't been answering my prayers. I don't even know where he is. I mean one minute I was down there, and the next I'm in the middle of that field, alone. It's kinda hard lookin' for the thing that saved you when you got no leads. Believe me, I looked… for weeks."

Dean looked around incredulously. "Wait… weeks? How long you been back?"

"About a year," he answered coolly. Dean almost punched him. Sam had been back practically this entire time, but hadn't even bothered to tell him.

"What did you lose the ability to send a friggin' text message?" He felt his voice growing louder but he didn't care.

"You finally had what you wanted, Dean."

"I wanted my brother! Alive!"

"You wanted a family. You have for a long time. You had something and you were building something. Had I shown up, you would've thrown it all away. I'm sorry. I am. But after everything, I felt like you deserved some sort of regular life."

Dean paused for a moment. It didn't matter whether or not Sam felt like he deserved something normal. It wasn't like his brother to not contact him after all this time. "What have you been doin'?"

Before Sam could answer, Dean heard someone clear his throat. That's when he noticed the tall vampire sheriff enter the room. "Good to see you up on your feet, Dean," he mused complacently.

"What the hell is he doing here?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Sam raised his hands in protest. "Now just hear me out. It's what I was about to tell you. After I got topside, I started looking for Cas with no luck. So I went to find Sookie… That's when I ran into Eric."

Dean's smile faded. "What are you two butt buddies now?"

Sam ignored his question. "Sookie's missing. She's been MIA for almost a year. I've been working with Eric, trying to find her." Sam went on to explain that Eric was the one who helped him find Dean. "He sensed your fear from the spell, of course. Same thing happened to me a few days ago."

The vampire finally spoke up. "Sam and I may have pissed off a few witches. I knew they'd come for you next." Dean's frustration was building.

"I wish I could say I was grateful," he began halfheartedly. "But isn't going from working with a demon to a vampire a little-?"

"Don't worry, I've been taking very good care of your darling little Sammy." The endearment made Dean's skin crawl. "Besides, we've been working with other hunters as well."

"Other hunters? You mean complete strangers." He turned his attention back to Sam.

"Actually they're more like family," Sam insisted. He exchanged glances with the vampire before escorting Dean into the next room. A light bulb hung from the ceiling over a large dusty dining table. Two men sat at it, cleaning weapons. A young woman, who Dean couldn't help but associate with a young Sigourney Weaver, approached them.

"My God, you have delicate features for a hunter," she said with her hands on her hips. Dean couldn't tell if she was being sincere or mocking him.

Sam finally introduced the woman. "Gwen Campbell." She flashed a genuine smile. Sam continued to introduce the men. "That's Christian, and Mark… Campbell."

Dean looked at the people around the room. "Campbell? As in...?"

"Your mom," Gwen chimed in. "We're your cousins."

"They grew up in the life like mom, and like us," Sam insisted.

"I thought all of mom's relatives were gone." Dean looked around the room skeptically. "Now I'm sorry, but why didn't we know about any of you?"

Dean recognized an old bald man entering the room. "Because they didn't know about you." Samuel, their grandfather, walked up to him and gave him a hug. Dean looked at the old man incredulously.

Eric spoke up. "Now you know why I brought you all together," he remarked, as usual he sounded bored.

"You did this?" Dean asked. "Is he…?"

"He didn't turn me if that's what you're asking. I'm not dead, or undead. And trust me I'm not thrilled to be working with a fanger, but times have changed. We gotta put aside our differences."

"How did this happen?" he asked, looking from his grandfather to his brother.

"We're guessing whatever pulled Sam up pulled me down. Whatever this is, we're both a part of it."

Dean turned to Eric. "Oh feel free to chime in at any time Zoolander."

Eric pulled out a chair from the table and took a seat. "I don't know who or what did this. Maybe it has something to do with Sookie going missing, maybe it doesn't."

"Whatever happened to her boyfriend, Bill?" Dean asked.

Eric stood, adjusting his leather jacket. "Bill Compton is now the vampire king of Louisiana. He was implicated in Sookie's disappearance at first, but nothing can be proven."

"Well I mean, we all know the life expectancy of Sam's hookups… I mean… maybe she's—"

"-She's not," the vampire insisted coldly. Dean suddenly realized that perhaps he had hit a nerve. He smiled on the inside for having finally gotten under the vampire's skin.

Though he relished his small victory, Dean's patience was running thin. "Am I the only one here who thinks that this just can't all be fine? I mean resurrected hunters working with vamps doesn't seem like a good thing."

"We're just as uneasy about this as you are, Dean. Right now the most important thing is finding those witches," his grandfather assured him.

"By order of King William T. Compton," Eric mused. Dean was still stunned at how comfortable everyone was with this situation, but he trusted Sam's judgment. If Sam was okay with this, then so was he… for now.

Dean mulled over the idea for a moment. "Witches, and you said they poisoned me? Well how come I'm not dead right now?"

"Samuel's got a cure," Sam answered.

"Well I know a few things," he admitted proudly. "Stick around and I'll show you tricks your daddy never dreamed of," he boasted lightheartedly.

Dean nodded his head in approval. Suddenly he had a sickening thought. "Lisa and Ben. If they were comin' after me then they're next."

 


	4. Fear & Loathing in Lancaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam & Dean are finally reunited, but Sam seems... different.

Dean watched Sam intently as they made their way into town. It felt strange riding shotgun in his brother's customized Dodge Charger. He smiled to himself, happy to have Sam by his side again. The only thing that was missing was Baby. He looked around the car, trying to figure out what possessed Sam to purchase a plastic piece of crap. Since Sam made no attempt to break the awkward silence, Dean tried to strike up a conversation. "So… a Dodge?" he asked.

Sam looked over at his brother, almost as if he'd forgotten he was there. "Oh yeah. It was a gift from Eric."

Dean had to shake his head to make sure he'd heard Sam correctly. "Eric? You two on a first name basis?" Sam shrugged nonchalantly. "What a douche," he mused under his breath. He and Sam hadn't been back together a whole hour, and already he couldn't help but feel like he was keeping something from him. He recalled the glances shared between the two of them back at the abandoned house, and now Sam was accepting expensive gifts from the vampire. "What's going on between you two?"

Sam's eyes never left the road. "I told you, we're just looking for Sookie."

"You drink his blood?" Dean quizzed, afraid of what Sam's answer might be.

He sighed. "No, of course not. Dean, I've learned my lesson. Eric and I are just partners. We share… a mutual interest."

"You mean Sookie." It was a statement rather than a question. Dean knew Sam was carrying a torch for her. Why else would he drop everything to go see her the night before he jumped in the pit? To his knowledge, she was the first person he went to see after getting out of the cage.

"Mmhmm," Sam nodded. He didn't bother looking at Dean. He eyed his brother skeptically. He was acting strange. Rather than pursue the issue any further and risk ruining their reunion, he changed the subject.

"I tell you what, I don't like working with these hunters," he revealed.

Sam looked at him, confused. "But they're our family."

"No  _we're_ family. I might've been out of the game for a while, but I know when to trust my instincts. Something's not right about them, or Eric." Sam simply nodded in silence. Dean was a little more than annoyed with this newfound apathy.

They arrived at Lisa's several minutes later. Dean was worried, realizing that he hadn't bothered to call to see if Lisa was all right. When they pulled into the drive, Dean noticed that the lights were on. Lisa opened the front door, and ran to meet them. "Oh thank God," she breathed as she crashed into Dean, hugging him. "Don't you ever do that to me again." She pulled away and was shocked when she caught a glimpse of Sam.

Dean cleared his throat. "Lisa, you remember Sam?"

"Of course." She masked her confusion with a broad smile, which soon faded into apprehension. "Not that I'm not thrilled you're alive, but this can't be good. Can it?"

The Campbells pulled up, followed by Eric in his sports car. "We need to talk," Dean stated gravely. Lisa invited everyone inside, including Eric to Dean's dismay. They stood in her kitchen, careful to keep their voices down because Ben was asleep. Samuel explained that she and her son were in danger.

"Witches?" she repeated skeptically at the end of his explanation. She took a moment to think. She looked at Dean. "What do I need to do?" she asked. Dean smiled inside. Lisa was bendy, but she was tough as nails.

"You pack a bag for you and Ben, I'll take you some place safe."

"No," Sam interrupted. "They're after you now. You can't go with her. She'll never be safe," he admitted matter-of-factly. He was right. Dean knew it would come to this. There was no walking away from the life. It would always find you and the ones you loved, and tear you a part.

"We'll look after her," Gwen spoke up, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. Her voice was sympathetic, as if she understood his reluctance to let his family go.

"We'll be fine," Lisa assured him. She gave Dean a quick hug before heading upstairs to pack. Dean released a heavy sigh before returning his attention to the hunters gathered in his kitchen.

"I have a friend in Sioux Falls. They'll be safe there," he informed Gwen and Christian. They both nodded. Dean turned to Samuel. "What's the game plan?"

"Check the house for hex bags. Then you, your brother and the fanger get the hell outta dodge," the old man asserted.

"Woah, Sam said it was after  _us_. Shouldn't  _we_ try and draw them out?" Dean asked.

Christian folded his arms. "You've been on the bench for a while now, Dean. Why don't you just leave this one to the professionals," he grinned smugly. Dean couldn't help but feel that everyone in the room was hiding something from him. Did they not want him there for some reason?

He accepted Christian's taunting with a sarcastic retort. "I know I've been out of the game for a while, but the best way to draw witches out, or anything else for that matter, is bait. You see, it's almost like I'm a professional." He stared Christian down with daggers in his eyes. He didn't trust these hunters as far as he could throw them. Christian smirked before heading out with Gwen.

Eric spoke up, breaking the silent tension in the kitchen. "These witches, they won't come unless they know we're alone," he suggested.

Samuel nodded reluctantly. "I hate to agree with a fanger but he's right. It's your call, Sam." Dean blinked, astonished that the old man was letting Sam call the shots. A lot had changed in year. A part of him wondered what Sam had to do to gain his trust. Sam agreed. "Well," his grandfather sighed as he prepared to leave. "We'll stay close. You boys call us if shit goes south, you understand?" Without waiting for a reply, he motioned to Mark to head out with him.

"I'll go help Lisa," Dean mused as he headed for the stairs. As he reached the top, she was coming out of Ben's bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"I told him it's nothing to worry about, just another one of your hunches. He's packing now," she whispered. She led him into their bedroom and resumed packing a few things into a duffle bag on the bed. Dean went to the dresser and started gathering panties from her drawer. She smiled warmly as he tossed them into her bag. "So," she sighed. "How long?"

"Things should blow over in a few days. I'll come get you from Bobby's—"

"That's not what I meant," she interrupted. Dean stopped helping her pack. She sat down next to her bag. "I mean, how long has Sam been back?"

"You mean back from the dead?" Lisa stood up in protest, but Dean raised a hand to silence her. "No, I know that's what you meant." He shrugged. For a year he had been completely open with Lisa, telling her all about his doubts and fears. He had never been that honest with anyone or himself. He often woke up in the middle of the night, screaming Sam's name, but she was always there to soothe him, to be a listening ear. She was his rock, but he was their death sentence. He regretted coming to her doorstep, walking back into their lives with all this emotional baggage and danger. "I am so sorry for bringing this—"

"No," she interrupted. "Don't you dare apologize for this. I know it hasn't been a cakewalk."  _Understatement_ , Dean thought. "I mean if the guy who basically just saved the world shows up at your door, you'd expect him to have more than a few issues. So, don't apologize for any of this, Dean. Yeah it's been a hell of a fight, but it's one I'd gladly be in for you."

Dean took her by the hand, and pulled her closer. He lifted her chin with his index finger and kissed her on the lips. "Dean?" They stopped suddenly at the sound of Ben's voice. He turned around to look at the boy, who had been growing like a weed lately. He was no longer pint sized. At eleven years old, Ben was nearly the same height as his long legged mother. He had her big brown eyes and her wide smile. He stood in the doorway holding his backpack.

"You all packed up, kiddo?" Lisa put on a grin. Ben rolled his eyes. He hated Lisa's little endearments. He let out a long yawn before nodding sleepily.

"Where are we going again?" he sighed.

"South Dakota," Dean answered a little too quickly with a half-hearted smile. "Don't worry, it's just another hunch. I'll come and get you in a few days." Ben shrugged, appreciative that he got to miss a few days of school. The boy headed downstairs with his backpack, dragging his feet. When he was out of earshot, Dean's face grew solemn. He was overjoyed to have Sam back in the picture, but he wasn't sure how this would affect his life with Lisa and Ben. He made up in his mind that he was out, but a hunter's job was never done.

"Hey," Lisa soothed, gently caressing his face. "Don't do this to yourself. Ben and I will be fine. You just do what you have to and we'll sort the rest out when we get back." She zipped her bag. Dean carried it down the stairs. He was shocked to see Ben standing in the kitchen talking to Northman.

"Can I see your fangs?" he asked excitedly to which the vampire obliged.

"Ben!" Dean barked. The boy jumped at the sound of Dean's voice. Dean realized that he shouldn't have shouted. He waved him over apologetically. "Get the lead out, let's go."

"Don't worry, I wasn't going to use them," the vampire taunted. The three walked outside. Gwen and Christian were waiting across the lawn.

Dean handed the duffle bag to Christian. "If anything happens to them, so help me," he started.

"Give it a rest. We know what we're doing," he interrupted as he tossed the bag into the van. Dean was still uneasy about leaving Lisa and Ben with hunters that he barely knew, but if they had taken care of Sam all this time, then it would have to be enough to assure him for now.

He turned to Ben, taking his backpack and putting it in the van. "Take care of your mom," he ordered fondly. Ben nodded and climbed inside.

Lisa wrapped her arms around his neck and closed the space between their bodies. She stood on her toes and whispered in his ear. "I know you feel bad for what you think you're putting us through." She pulled away and held his face in her hands. "But this has been the best year of my life. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect guy for Ben to look up to." She kissed him, this time slipping her tongue into his mouth. It caught Dean off guard, causing a low growl to escape his mouth into hers. She pulled away abruptly with a cheeky grin. "To be continued," she teased.

"I'm counting the minutes," Dean breathed, attempting to hide his erection with one hand as he waved with the other. She hopped into the van with a wink, closing the door behind her. He stood there for a moment after Christian and Gwen pulled off, watching them head down the block and round the corner. As he turned to walk inside, he noticed an unfamiliar car parked at the end of the block. It was a dark sedan. He couldn't tell if someone was inside, but he knew that it wasn't there when they arrived and it was nearly two in the morning, too late for any of his neighbors to have guests. He rushed inside.

Eric and Sam were examining his golf clubs. "I didn't know you played, Dean," the vampire teased.

He snatched the clubs and put them back into the closet. "It's a sport, ... whatever. I think someone's watching the house." Dean led the two over to a window and showed them where the car was parked. "It wasn't there when we got here… and it doesn't belong to any of my neighbors."

Sam chuckled. "You having neighbors, playing house, golf… it's cute." Dean frowned. Sam's voice became serious. "It's probably best if you get outta here, Eric. Dawn's in a few hours." Dean's frown turned into a look of bewilderment.

"Not that I like having Leif Erikson around, but wouldn't it be a better idea to keep the thousand year old vampire around to help with an entire coven of witches?"

"They're necromancers." Sam replied, still looking out of the window. Dean was still a little confused about what this had to do with getting rid of Eric.

"If they can control the dead, then they can control me. And it's not an entire coven it's only two. They're powerless without their leader." It was all starting to make sense now.

"The witches you pissed off," Dean nodded.

"My incompetent king ordered me to investigate a group of witches suspected of necromancy in Shreveport. Luckily I didn't go empty handed," the vampire said looking over at Sam. "He saved my life."  _That explains the car._

"After you took a chunk out of her neck," Sam interjected.

"At least I didn't kill anyone," he retorted playfully. "You should've seen your brother, Dean. He shot a witch right between the eyes. I'd say that's cold, even for me."

Dean had heard enough. "What are you married?" He was shouting again, but he didn't care. This banter between his brother and a vampire was becoming a little too much. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Can we just, can we figure out what to do about the witches that may or may not be outside at the moment?"

Sam turned away from the window. "I say we chain Eric up in the basement," he stated matter-of-factly. "If they cast a spell on you, then we're screwed. Dean and I are good, but you're too old and strong. We'd be dead inside five minutes."

"That's the best idea you've had all night," Dean agreed. Suddenly the lights began to flicker on and off.

"Well that's never a good sign," Eric mused. Dean grabbed the sawed off shotgun he kept in the closet.

"Eric, get the hell out of here," Sam said, his voice barely above a whisper, as he loaded his military pump action shotgun. The vampire sped out of the door and into the night. The lights finally flickered off, leaving the brothers in the darkened living room. A silence fell over the house. The brothers took up sentry positions in the living room, just as their father had trained them to do. "It's kinda like ridin' a bike, huh?" Sam whispered.

Suddenly Dean heard a noise coming from the kitchen. He moved quickly to see what it was. When he reached the doorway, there was nothing there. Nothing was out of place. He walked over to the kitchen sink, where a window overlooked his neighbor's home. There was movement going on next door. Dean could see Jim walking around his living room. It was strange considering it was nearly three in the morning. That's when Dean saw a woman's hand reach from behind and slit his throat. "NO!" he shouted. He started for the back door when he felt Sam pull him back.

"No, don't! He's already dead and you know it Dean," his brother advised. Dean wriggled free and ran out the door anyway. Jim might have been gone, but at least he would try and save his wife. Dean hopped the fence and kicked in the back door.

"Liv?" He called out to her. The alarm didn't go off. It must've been disabled. He called out her name again, but there was no reply. He ran into the living room and found both of them on the floor in a pool of blood. Sam was right. It was a trap. He shouldn't have come. He turned to leave, but a woman kicked him in the groin.

Dean toppled over in a heap onto the floor. He looked up, and recognized her as the tattooed waitress from the bar. "Why didn't you call me, Dean?" she asked, pretending to be hurt. She kicked him in the ribs. He groaned in agony. He still hadn't recuperated from the kick to the jewels. She reached down and took the weapon from him. "Did you really think it would be that easy?" She bent down in front of him, reaching behind his head. He followed her hand, and watched as she drew a circle in the blood. She began to chant in Latin.

" _Noctisque metus sanguine_

_Tego qui te penitus in corde pueri mater vult perdere_

_Ut deleret mittit timorem se corda innocentium_ "

When she finished her incantation she took the blood soaked finger and placed it in his mouth. "I hope you burn in hell for good this time." Dean could feel his heart beating faster in his chest. He tried to stand to his feet, but he couldn't. His vision began to blur. It was happening all over again, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you sweetheart?" Eric Northman towered over him, his fangs dripping with blood. He blinked and his eyes went pale yellow. "You and I are going to have so much fun."

"No, n-no," Dean stood up.

"You know Sammy is mine, right? All mine. I've had that ass six ways from Sunday." Dean's knees were weak; his heart was beating faster by the second. He was sure it was going to give out. Sam entered the living room. "See, I told you sweetheart." Eric bit into his wrist and offered it to Sam, who rushed over and suckled hungrily. "Sweeter than mother's milk."

"No! Sam!" He shouted at the top of his lungs. He felt a sharp pain in his neck. Suddenly his heart beat slowed, and the room stopped spinning. He spun around as Sam took the syringe out of his neck. Samuel's cure. Dean looked around him. His neighbors were lying dead on the floor. So were the two witches.

"You okay, man?" Dean nodded. "C'mon, I'll call Samuel." Sam helped him back over to Lisa's. They walked through the back door. Sam sat Dean down at the kitchen table and fixed him a glass of water.

Dean downed it in one gulp and handed the glass back to Sam. "There's some bourbon in the cabinet." Sam fixed his brother a drink and sat the bottle down on the kitchen table before handing him the glass. Dean threw his head back and let the liquor slide down his throat. After another drink he finally looked up at Sam. "Where's Northman?"

Sam shrugged. "Don't know."

Dean was a little more than confused by Sam's behavior. One minute he was saving the vampire's life, the next he didn't care where he was a few hours before dawn. Dean shrugged off Sam's apathy again, chocking it up to him being tired after taking down two witches. "You sure there were only two of them, right?"

"If there were more, they're probably long gone by now. I checked the house, before I got to you." Dean stopped pouring his drink for a moment.  _He checked the house before bothering to save me?_ He didn't say a word. He downed the drink, and stood up, sufficiently intoxicated enough to deal with what just happened. He watched Sam pull out his phone. "Hey Samuel. No, yeah we're fine. We're just gonna need some help cleaning up the mess next door. See you soon." Dean was surprised at how callous his brother had become. His neighbors were dead, yet he offered none of the usual touchy feely condolences that he normally did.

After Samuel and Mark arrived, they went next door and did their best to dispose of the bodies. The sun was creeping behind the horizon when they had finished cleaning up. "We better get outta here," Samuel insisted. "Thanks for your help, Dean." He hopped into his truck and closed the door. "World's gettin' awful dangerous, it wouldn't hurt to have family lookin' out for you. If you want back in, all you have to do is ask."

Dean wasn't quite sure what to think of the offer. "I've got all the family I need." His grandfather looked at him for a while.

"You know your mom was the same way. She wanted out of the life, to have a family…" his voice trailed off and a sadness clouded his eyes. "Anyway, you keep in touch." He motioned for Mark to pull off.

Dean noticed Eric's sports car wasn't parked in the drive. He took it as a good sign. Perhaps the vampire had actually left and went to ground somewhere close by for the day. He waved Sam over. "Hey there's somethin' I wanted to show you." Dean opened the garage and pulled the tarp off the Impala. It was the first time he had seen her in months. She still shined, in unbelievably pristine condition. He reached into his pocket for the keys and handed them to Sam. "She should be hunting."

Sam looked at the keys and back to Dean. "I'd rather not. Eric has my car set up the way I like it." Dean was taken aback by the rejection. Here he was handing over his legacy, and Sam blatantly said no. Sam obviously didn't mean anything by it, but it still struck a nerve. He placed the keys back in his pocket and pulled the tarp back over the Impala.

Sam started for his car. "Bye," he waved.  _Bye?_

"Hey Sammy," he called after him. Sam stopped, and turned to look at him. There was something different in his eyes, like he was Sam but he wasn't Sam at the same time. He wondered what happened to his brother while he was in the pit. Maybe that's why he was acting so… distant. "Take care of yourself, okay?" Sam nodded with a smile before getting into his car and pulling out of the driveway. Somehow, Dean couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over.

 


	5. What's Done in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulless!Sam gets his hands dirty with the coven of witches, which unfortunately causes things to go south for the Vampire Sheriff of Area 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I've updated. I literally have written like three or more chapters since I last updated it. I've just been posting on a different site, because I'm still not quite used to this one. Thanks for all the kudos on the prequel to this series though. I really appreciate it.

The tattooed witch groaned in agony as Sam threw another punch to her gut. He watched her gag for air and writhe in pain. "I'm sorry what was that? You were saying something about purgatory."

"I already told you, I don't know anything!" she screamed, her hands bound, hanging from a hook in the ceiling. Under Bill's directive they set up a holding facility several miles outside of Shreveport. After capturing a few members of the coven, Eric, Sam and the Campbell clan brought them there for questioning.

The vampire sheriff had retired for the day, while Sam questioned a couple of witches. Just before sundown he started on the tattooed witch. By now her thick curly hair was drenched in sweat and blood. Sam made sure to shoot her in the shoulder so that she wouldn't bleed out. He didn't want Dean wondering why he hadn't killed her. The last thing he needed was his brother getting in the way of vampire business. He inserted his finger in the wound. Her shrill scream pierced the air. "I don't know anything about purgatory, I swear! I'm just a bartender at Earl's Pool Hall in Shreveport! I just go to Wicca group because my boyfriend said it would be cool! I swear, please!" Tears streamed down her face.

Sam was working so intently on getting the girl to talk that he hadn't realized Eric had strolled into the cell. He touched Sam on the shoulder. "Allow me," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. Sam stepped aside. The vampire looked the woman in the eye, leaning in so close that he was barely a breath away. "Is there anything you'd like to tell my associate?" he asked calmly.

"I don't know anything about purgatory," she answered, under Eric's influence.

He studied the woman for a moment. She was so easily taken under his influence that he suspected she didn't have any magic inside of her at all. "You're not even a real witch are you?" he probed.

"No," she answered, still in a daze. "But Marnie is."

Eric turned to Sam. "Which one is Marnie?" he asked.

The hunter shrugged, "Maybe the older woman? She's the one who led the incantation at Moon Goddess Emporium." Eric nodded and released the young woman from his influence. He strolled out of the cell with Sam following suit.

"What the fuck was that about?" Eric hissed as he walked down the corridor to Marnie's holding cell.

"Bill called shortly after sundown with new instructions," Sam replied. "He wants us to question them about purgatory. He said it was urgent."

"Did he say why?"

"No, just said to use whatever means to extract information that pertains to purgatory. He didn't even bother explaining what he meant by purgatory."

"He gave you authorization to torture them?" Eric asked incredulously.

Sam paused for a moment. "Not explicitly, but she was giving me a hard time. You should've seen the way she—"

"Look, I don't know what's wrong with you, and personally I don't give a fuck. That's not how we do things post Russell Edgington. Next time you decide to question a prisoner, you wait for me."

Sam shrugged. "It would've gone a lot faster if we had Sookie," he admitted.

"Or if you would've waited for me to wake up," the vampire insisted. "Speaking of Sookie, do you have any leads?"

Sam huffed. "Yeah actually, I did another missing person's search, this time across the entire southern United States, looking for y'know the 'disappeared into thin air' cases."

"And?" Eric probed.

"Turns out this kid named Barry Schwartz from Dallas went missing a month before Sookie. Apparently he worked as a bellboy at the Hotel Carmilla, but he quit around the same time you hired Sookie to help you look for your maker. My guess this is the same kid that Sookie communicated with telepathically to send for help when we were stuck in that basement at the Fellowship."

"I remember him. So he's fae?" Eric asked, to which Sam replied with a nod. "How long have you known about this?"

"A few hours, why?" Sam shrugged.

"Why didn't you tell me this a few hours ago?" Eric quizzed impatiently.

"You were asleep. And I thought following Bill's orders was more important right now," Sam stated matter-of-factly.

"Bill Compton might be my king but he's not my boss. Finding Sookie takes precedence over everything. Do you understand?"

Sam stopped in his tracks. "No actually, I don't." Eric stopped to turn around and look at him. The vampire wondered if this was just another attempt to get under his skin, but a genuine expression of confusion riddled the hunter's face. He searched Sam's eyes and as always there was nothing behind them. No fear, no love, no anger, it was as if he was a machine. It was like the man had no moral compass. He was capable of anything, yet nothing.

Eric used to think Sam wanted to find Sookie because he loved her, but after a year of working alongside him, Sam's motives became as nebulous as his character. But why else would the hunter be searching for her in Bon Temps a few weeks after he made it out of hell? Was he bored? Was there nothing else to hunt? Questioning Sam's motives also made him wonder about his own, but he never admitted what they were to himself, let alone to anyone else. Eric was spending nearly $50,000 in renovations to Sookie's house. He spent countless hours and resources searching for her. He assumed that those were adequate expressions of how he felt about her. The vampire turned around and continued to walk to Marnie's cell. When he arrived, her face went rigid with terror.

"Please! I don't know anything, don't hurt me!" she shouted as she tried to writhe free from her restraints.

Eric moved in closer, raising his hands, showing that he was unarmed and meant the old witch no harm. "I'm afraid we got off on the wrong foot. You heard what Sam did to your friend down the hall?" She nodded. "Well I don't want that to happen to you. All I ask is that you answer my questions honestly." She gulped and nodded again as if she understood. "What do you know about purgatory?"

He knelt down beside her, and tried to mold his face into something calm and patient. She looked up at Sam then back to the vampire, not sure how she should answer the question. "Purgatory is… hell?" Sam moved forward, but Eric put up his hand, stopping the hunter. He decided to take a different approach.

"Your friend in there told us you were a real witch," Eric started. "Why would she say that?"

"Well," she began nervously. "I'm a medium. I commune with spirits. It's how I first started dealing in necromancy."

"Trying to revive a dead pet," Sam scoffed.

"Artemis was my friend!" she retorted. "Please, let me go. I am simply a conduit, I have no power!"

Sam's interest was piqued. "A conduit for what?"

"I believe she's some sort of spirit."

"Who?" Eric probed.

"I-I'm not sure. She's never given me a name."

Sam folded his arms and leaned against the cell bars. "If it's a spirit then you should be able to summon her."

"I've tried. I've pleaded for hours for her to come and rescue me from this torment… but I believe she has forsaken me." Marnie hung her head in hopelessness.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Sam began. "We can hold a séance."

"That's a wonderful idea, Sam," Eric agreed with a smirk. "Go get what you need. I'll wait here with Marnie."

Sam looked at the witch hesitantly. "You sure?"

Eric motioned for him to go without tearing his eyes away from the witch. The hunter obliged. "Please, let me go. I don't know anything, none of us do."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Marnie. Your people attacked me and my men. Your coven's dangerous."

"Vampires attack humans all the time. You attacked me! Your brute killed one of my friends! He tortured another! We have rights, freedom of religion to peacefully assemble and practice our faith-" She argued.

Eric lifted her off the floor, one hand clasped firmly around her neck. "Do you realize how little the laws of your kind mean to something as old as I am? Yes I did attack you, and I'll do it again if you don't shut your mouth," he replied calmly, baring his fangs to show he was serious.

Suddenly a mighty gust of wind filled the cell. Eric released the witch, who remained hovering in the air.

Sam rushed into the cell. "Eric get out of here!" he heard him shout. Eric couldn't move his feet. His eyes remained glued on hers. There seemed to be a fire lit inside of her that shown through her eyes. He heard her chanting, but couldn't make out the words. There was a gunshot, then another. He felt himself emptying into nothingness. He could feel his fangs retract. Jag har huggtänder? He looked round about him at the strange woman, who was now smirking, laughing with her dead fiery eyes. He turned to see an unfamiliar man. "Eric? Are you all right?" He heard him say. Vem är Eric?

He suddenly felt a magnet pulling him from his very center. He had to leave this place. There was somewhere else he suddenly had to be, even though he didn't know where it was. He sped off into the night, leaving the unpleasant sights and smells behind.

* * *

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly. What the fuck do you mean Eric's missing?" Pam shouted as she stood behind Eric's desk. Immediately after Eric fled the holding facility, Sam rushed to Fangtasia, not exactly sure what to do next. He was sure the progeny would have some insight to offer, but of course it wouldn't come without a firm tongue lashing.

"One minute he was inside the cell with the witch and the next he was gone. He mumbled a few things in Swedish and just took off," Sam explained. "He's under some sort of spell."

"Well is he alright? Do you even know if he's alive?" Sam shrugged, which only caused Pam to panic. She started pacing the floor. "I'm gonna stick my Jimmy Choos so far up your well defined ass—" She stopped. "No, this isn't your fault. If he hadn't taken those orders from Bill…"

Sam's brow furrowed. "Why blame Bill?"

"Because the self-righteous prick tried to kill Eric before. I mean why else would he knowingly send a vampire to deal with necromancers? He's probably been orchestrating this from the start. Having Eric work with hunters and now witches… that son of a bitch."

"I may have a lead on where he is," Sam revealed. "The spell," he took out a scrap of paper and handed it to the she-vamp. "I wrote it down from memory. If I can get it translated, it might give us an idea of where he is."

"Do it and hurry. Eric's life depends on it. Where are the witches now?" Pam asked, circling the desk and standing in front of Sam.

"Bill's security team is supposed to be picking them up for transport to another facility."

"I'll find the bitch that did this to him and rip her fuckin' throat out. You can't tell anyone else. The fewer people who know the better. I'll take care of King Bill, too. You just find Eric, or else." Sam nodded and hurried out of the bar.

* * *

After a couple days, Dean made the journey to Sioux Falls to pick up Lisa and Ben from Bobby's. When he arrived at the old junkyard, he spotted Ben helping Bobby fix up an old Chevy pick up. When Ben spotted him, he dropped everything and ran towards Dean. "I've been helping Uncle Bobby fix the radiator, just like you taught me."

Dean smiled, rubbing the boy's head. "Yeah? Uncle Bobby taught me everything I know about radiators." He looked at Bobby, who was beaming with pride.

"It's damn good to see ya, Dean. C'mon inside I'll get us some beers." As they made their way to the house, Lisa stepped off the porch and ran to Dean, jumping into his arms.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she breathed before planting a slow, passionate kiss on his lips. Dean set her down and they all hurried inside. While Lisa busied herself in the kitchen preparing lunch, Dean and Bobby grabbed a couple of beers and caught up.

"You've got a beautiful family, Dean. Not many hunters can make it out alive, let alone with a beautiful woman and a good kid," Bobby noted.

Dean took a swig of beer. "Yeah…" he replied despondently. "Thanks, Bobby. I mean for everything," he said putting on a fake grin in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Bobby watched him knowingly. "You've seen Sam, huh?" Dean nearly choked on his beer.

"Did Lisa-?"

"No, no. He blows in here every now and then, asking for help or some acacia root or something or other."

Dean sat up in his seat. "So you knew Sam was alive? How long?"

"Dean—"

"How long?" he probed.

"About a year," Bobby admitted reluctantly. Dean stared at Bobby incredulously.

"A year," he repeated. "You knew Sam was alive this whole time and you couldn't pick up the phone to put me out of my misery!" His voice grew louder by the second, but he didn't care. He heard Lisa call Ben into the kitchen.

"You were out, Dean! And it was as close to happiness as a hunter could get," Bobby argued.

Dean put his beer down and stood up. "Happiness? It's a miracle that woman even let me in her house! I had nightmares! I drank too much! You shouldn't have kept me in the dark and you know it."

Lisa walked into the room with a plate of sandwiches. She smiled, trying to break the tension. "Lunch is served, everybody dig in." She pointed to Dean. "Outside, now," she mouthed.

When they were both on the porch, she closed the door behind her. "Are you out of your mind?" she hissed. Dean gave her a confused look. "That man has done nothing but help you help us. And this is the thanks he gets?" Dean rolled his eyes and tried to look away, but Lisa grabbed his chin. He was surprised to see her face soften with concern. "I know you're spooked because Sam is back and working with a vampire no less, but you can't take it out on Bobby."

Dean couldn't tell whether he loved or hated it when Lisa used her mom voice. "You're right," he admitted with a sigh. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry."

Lisa pulled away and playfully punched him in the arm. "Don't tell me, tell Bobby," she smiled. Suddenly Dean could hear a car pulling into Bobby's gravel driveway. He turned around and recognized Sam's Charger. His brother stopped the car abruptly, shut off the engine and hopped out.

"Hey Lisa, hey Dean," he greeted the two absentmindedly as he mounted the porch with one long stride. He hadn't bothered to look their way as he hurried past them into the house. Dean took Lisa by the hand and followed his brother inside.

Sam was standing over the dining room table with Bobby examining a piece of paper. Ben sat opposite them, devouring a sandwich and listening intently to the hunters' conversation. "It's in Old Castilian," Bobby finally revealed, looking up at Sam. "You were right, it's Spanish, but it's Mediaeval Spanish."

"Can you translate it?" Sam asked, still not bothering to acknowledge Dean's presence. Finally, Dean cleared his throat causing the two to look up at him.

"So you wanna tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to start guessing?"

Sam straightened his posture and reluctantly told Dean the reason for his visit. "Eric Northman is missing," he paused for a moment, attempting to let the gravity of the revelation sink in.

"Okay so what's the bad news?" Dean asked.

"A vampire sheriff has gone missing and his last known whereabouts is with a group of hunters. If Bill Compton or a member of the Authority finds out about this—" Sam began

"Then we're royally screwed," Dean finished. Screwed was an understatement. Vampires didn't care about explanations or good intentions. A vampire of high standing was missing, presumably dead. If they didn't find Eric soon, he and his brother would be hunted. Lisa and Ben still weren't safe.

"It's definitely a curse. The victim loses their memory and seeks out 'their heart's desire,'" Bobby chimed in, looking up from the paper. "How'd you get this anyway?"

"I wrote it down from memory," Sam explained. Dean wasn't exactly amazed. His brother had an uncanny talent for retaining pertinent information.

What did bother him was the fact that Eric had been cursed. "Wait, I thought you killed all the witches?"

"No, not all of them," Sam answered. He was lying. Dean could sense it. Something was off about his brother, but he couldn't figure out what. One problem at a time, he told himself.

"Heart's desire, huh?" Dean mused. "What does a 1,000 year old vampire want more than anything in the world?"

"Fairy blood," Sam answered assuredly. Dean looked at him baffled by his answer.

"Of course…" he replied sarcastically. "Naturally… Okay what the hell is fairy blood?"

"It's just like it sounds: fairy's blood. The life source of the fae… and a narcotic for vampires," Sam explained matter-of-factly. Dean still couldn't believe it.

"So wait, fairies exist?"

Bobby looked up from the piece of paper. "My money's on yeah."

"Yeah well, Sookie's a fairy, more or less. Eric's been obsessed with finding her for months. If we find her we'll find him… if he isn't dead already," Sam mused. Dean watched as Lisa collected Ben's empty plate and led him into the kitchen, giving the hunters some much needed privacy.

"I hate to rain on your already shitty parade, but if this girl's been missing for over a year, how the hell do you expect to find her?" Bobby asked what was already on Dean's mind.

"I've got a lead," Sam spoke up. "This Barry Schwartz kid went missing a few weeks before Sookie. I think he's a fairy hybrid too." Sam handed Dean Barry's DMV photo ID and his missing persons report. "His mother's deceased but his father still lives in Dallas."

Dean let out a heavy sigh. He looked from Sam and Bobby to Lisa and Ben in the kitchen. Although he wanted to help his brother see this through, he had to be there for his new family. They needed him. "Good luck," he reluctantly ceded.

Sam's brow furrowed. "You're not coming?'" he inquired.

Lisa looked up from her work in the kitchen. "No," he admitted. "I can't."

Sam nodded. "I'll be in Dallas if you change your mind." Dean reluctantly said good-bye to his brother, watching him gather a few of Bobby's books and heading out the door. If he knew what was good for Lisa and Ben, he'd follow him out of that door and out of their lives. With Eric missing, and potential for serious repercussions from the vampire Authority, it would only be a matter of time before danger knocked on their door. No doubt he was emotionally torn between protecting Lisa and Ben and being there for Sam. But as usual, he swallowed the lump in his throat and handled each problem one at a time. Right now, his main concern was protecting his family.


End file.
